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Oh! what a revolution !- and what a heart must I have, to contemplate without emotion that elevation and that fall!

Little did I dream-that, when she added titles of veneration to those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in that bosom;

little did I dream-that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men,-in a nation of men of honour and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters, economists, and calculators, has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is extinguished for ever. Never, never more, shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex,—that proud submission,—that dignified obedience,- that subordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom. The unbought grace of life, the cheap defence of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment and heroic enterprise is gone! It is gone,--that sensibility of principle,-that chastity of honour, which felt a stain like a wound,which inspired courage whilst it mitigated ferocity,which ennobled whatever it touched; and under which vice itself lost half its evil, by losing all its grossness.

PART OF THE BURIAL SERVICE.

(From the Book of Common Prayer.) I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord; be that believeth in me, tho' he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die.

I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth; and tho' worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I

see God.

Behold, thou hast made my days, as it were, a span long; and mine age is even as nothing in respect of thee; and verily every man living is altogether vanity: for man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain: he heapeth up riches and cannot tell who shall gather them.

A thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday: seeing that is past as a watch in the night. As soon as thou scatterest them, they are even as a sleep: and fade away suddenly like the grass. In the morning it is green, and groweth up; but in the evening it is cut down, dried up, and withered.

We consume away in thy displeasure; and are afraid at thy wrathful indignation: for when thou art angry, all our days are gone, and we bring our years to an end, as it were a tale that is told. So teach us to number our days: that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.

Now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the first fruits of them that slept: for since by man came death, by man came, also, the resurrection of the dead. As in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive.

But some

man will say, “How are the dead raised up? and with what body do they come?" Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened except it die: and that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare grain,-it may chance of wheat, or of some other grain: but God giveth it a body, as it hath pleased him; and to every seed his own body. So, also, is the resurrection of the dead: It is sown in corruption: it is raised in incorruption: It is sown in dishonour; it is raised in glory: It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power: It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body. Now this I say, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God: neither doth corruption inherit corruption.

Behold, I shew you a mystery. We shall not all sleep: but we shall all be changed in a moment,-in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised in

corruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption; and this mortality shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written—“Death is swallowed up in victory.” O Death! where is thy sting? O Grave! where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who giveth us the VICTORY, through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and is full of misery. He cometh up, and is cut down like a flower: he fleeth, as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay. In the midst of life we are in death: of whom may we seek for succour, but of thee, O Lord! who for our sins art justly displeased? Yet, O Lord God most holy! O Lord most mighty! O holy and most merciful Saviour! deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal death.

DIRGE IN CYMBELINE, Sung by Guiderus and Arviragus orer Fidele, sup

posed to be dead.

COLLINS. To fair Fidele's

grassy

tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet of earliest bloom

And rifle all the breathing Spring. No wailing ghost shall dare appear

To vex with shrieks this quiet grove; But shepherd lads assemble here,

And melting virgins own their love. No wither'd witch shall here be seen,

No goblins lead their nightly crew; The female fays shall haunt the green,

And dress thy grave with pearly dew. The red-breast oft at evening hours

Shall kindly lend his little aid,

With hoary moss, and gather'd flowr's,

To deck the ground where thou art laid. When howling winds, and beating rain,

In tempests shake thy sylvan cell; Or 'midst the chace on every plain,

The tender thought on thee shall dwell; Each lonely scene shall thee restore,

For thee the tear be duly shed, Belov’d, till life can charm no more;

And mourn'd, till Pity's self be dead.

REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OF THE BOOKS.

COWPER.

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Between Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose,

The spectacles set them unhappily wrong ; The point in dispute was, all the world knows,

To which the said spectacles ought to belong. So the tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learn

ing; While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws,

So fam'd for his talent in nicely discerning. In behalf of the Nose, it will quickly appear,

And your lordship, he said, will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear,

Which amounts to possession time out of mind. Then holding the spectacles up to the courtYour lordship observes they are made with a strad..

dle, As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short,

Design'd to fit close to it, just like a saddle. Again, would your lordship a moment suppose

('Tis a case that has happen'd, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a Nose, Pray who would or who could wear spectacles

then ?

On the whole it appears, and my argument shews,

With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,

And the Nose was as plainly intended for them. Then shifting his side, as a lawyer knows how,

He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes;
But what were his arguments few people know,

For the court did not think they were equally wise. So his lordship decreed, with a grave solemn tone,

Decisive and clear, without one if or butThat whenever the Nose put his spectacles on,

By day-light or candle-light-Eyes should be shut.

THE PASSIONS, AN ODE.

COLLINS.
When Music, heavenly Maid! was young,
Ere yet, in earliest Greece, she sung,
The Passions oft, to hear her shell,
Throng'd around her magic cell,
Exulting-trembling-raging-fainting,
Possess'd beyond the Muse's painting.
By turns, they felt the glowing mind
Disturb’d-delighted-rais'd-refind;
Till once, 'tis said, when all were fir’d,
Fill'd with fury-rapt-inspir’d,
From the supporting myrtles round,
They snatch'd her instruments of sound,
And as they oft had heard, apart,
Sweet lessons of her forceful art)
Each, (for Madness rul'd the hour)
Would prove his own expressive pow'r.

First Fear-his hand, its skill to try,
Amid the chords bewilder'd laid;
And back recoil'd-he knew not why-
Even at the sound himself had made.

Next anger rush'd;—his eyes on fire,
In lightnings, own'd his secret stings;
In one rude clash, be struck the lyre,
And swept, with hurried hand, the strings.

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